All the Same
by MuslimBarbie
Summary: She laughed in a way that made him both want to smile and rip his heart out simultaneously. "If only it could be you. If I loved you, imagine how much easier my life would be." -One-sided HHr, completed-
1. One

**Title:** All the Same  
**Summary: **_She laughed in a way that made him both want to smile and rip his heart out simultaneously. "If only it could be you. If I loved you, imagine how much easier my life would be."_  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. The song in all chapters is _Never Leave_ by Seether.**  
****Word count: **3803**  
**

* * *

**It's never been the way that I described**

* * *

Two years after the war, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley shocked the world when they ended their relationship. What made it all the worse was that there was no ridiculous scandal, no atrocious love affair, no monstrously disproportionate blow up. It was over – the end. In fact, they were even determined to remain friends. It left all of Wizarding London upset and confused.

Especially Harry.

"We simply aren't right for one another, Harry."

"Yeah, mate. It just didn't work out, that's all."

Which made even less sense to him, because Harry couldn't imagine two people more right for each other. Ever since first year, he had known that they would get together and probably even get married one day. Because Ron and Hermione were made for one another – Harry just knew it.

But he kept his mouth shut, because if Harry knew one thing in this world, it was his friends. He knew that Ron and Hermione were stubborn to the bone and that they had to do things on their own, because if he tried to interfere it would only drive them further apart. So Harry remained on the sidelines and hoped to Merlin that the two would come to their senses and, in the end, it would all be the same again.

**...**

Ron and Hermione quickly realised that sharing a flat with an ex was not their most brilliant ideas. And, of course, Harry heard it all – from the stories about how awkward it would get to the maddening frustration it led to. The quirks that had once brought them together were threatening to destroy their friendship. So after the two longest weeks of their lives, Hermione decided it was time for her to move out.

The only problem was that she had nowhere to move to.

So on the fifteenth day after the breakup, she recruited Harry and Ginny into helping her find her perfect flat. It was a simple enough task. Unfortunately, with Hermione Granger, nothing could ever just be simple.

"What about the one in Diagon Alley?" Harry asked, exhausted. They had visited probably every bloody available flat in Wizarding London.

"It was nice, but the area was so busy. I prefer someone more peaceful."

"Well, we saw that one outside the city – I'm sure it's plenty peaceful there." Ginny suggested.

"Absolutely not. It had four bedrooms, which is far too excessive for just me."

So it went for the next week or so. No flat ever seemed to suit Hermione's fancy – they were too big or too small, too loud or too quiet, too far or too close. And the longer it took, the further the strain on her relationship with Ron grew. They would bicker, scream, and on more than one occasion, one of them would have to walk out.

In fact, it was on one of the occasions that Harry realised the solution.

Hermione and Ron had got into some spat about something or other (he couldn't even be bothered to remember about what anymore) and she had asked to spend the night at his flat. It was a quiet evening, most of which they spent reading in silence.

"I'm going to make a pot of tea. Would you like a cup?" She asked.

"Alright."

And then, just like that, Hermione set out into his kitchen. She didn't need to ask him where anything was or even how he liked his tea – it was all natural to her by now. Which, honestly, was to be expected, seeing as how she practically lived at his flat now and all. And then, just like that, Harry knew the solution to her and Ron's problem.

"Hey 'Mione."

"Yes, Harry?" She answered from the kitchen.

"Why don't you move in?"

He was met with a slight pause. "What?"

Harry couldn't help but grin, it wasn't everyday he was able to surprise her. "Move in. I have a spare bedroom and you need a place to stay. I live in Muggle London so it's away from everything, but not so much that it's inconvenient. The landlord has no problems with pets, so you don't even have to worry about Crookshanks."

"I couldn't possibly impose on you like that." She stepped out from the kitchen.

"It wouldn't be imposing; I wouldn't have asked if it would be. Besides," his grin grew. "You practically live here already – Merlin, you even helped decorate the place when I got it. Admit it, Hermione, it's a good idea."

"Well, I suppose you're right." She finally smiled. "Alright, but only until I find a place of my own – I don't want to overstay my welcome."

"Take as long as you need. My home is your home.

**...**

One morning, three days later, Harry awoke to soft music and a sweet aroma. Instinctively, he reached for his wand and silently rolled out of his bed, determined to catch whoever had broken into his flat. Before he could even reach the bedroom door, however, his brain caught up with his Auror reflexes and he remembered his new flatmate.

His brows furred slightly and his eyes glanced at the clock. It was barely past seven; Hermione didn't need to be at the Ministry until nine. Harry knew this, because only Aurors were required to clock in at eight. So why in Merlin's name would she be awake so early? As far as he knew, it didn't take Hermione two bloody hours to get dressed in the morning.

He found his answer standing in the kitchen. Hermione must have heard him, because she looked up from the stove and smiled. "Oh good, you're awake. I was worried that it would be too early for you. Sit down, I'm just finishing up."

Harry frowned. "You made breakfast? You didn't have to do that, 'Mione." He explained, but obeyed her and took his seat regardless.

She rolled her eyes and put two plates of waffles down. "Honestly, Harry. When was the last time you had a decent breakfast?"

"I rarely have the time." He admitted. "I'm usually in too much of a hurry to get to the Ministry since it's so early." He ate a piece of the waffle. "These are fantastic, Hermione!"

"Don't talk with food in your mouth." She replied, cutting a piece of her own waffle up. "And thank you. But that's no excuse not to have breakfast. I'll make sure to have some prepared before you leave in the mornings."

"You don't have to do that. It's only quarter past seven. I thought you didn't have to go to the Ministry until nine."

"Oh, I know, but I prefer to go in earlier. I'm able to get more work done that way."

_Of course._ Harry playfully rolled his eyes. Hermione and her work – some things would never change, he supposed. He knew better than to argue with her, but it still didn't seem fair. "Alright, but I'll make dinner then. Deal?"

Hermione laughed. "Deal."

**...**

The next two weeks passed with ease. Harry had to admit that he had been slightly worried that he and Hermione would face some sort of problem as flatmates. Not that he had expected it to be a disaster, but he expected _something_ at the very least – some sort of annoying habit, something in his flat she wanted to change, even a few bossy comments. He waited and waited, but nothing happened.

Granted, she was a bit of a neat freak, but after living with the Dursleys for as long as he had, Harry wasn't exactly the messiest person around. With a few exceptions when she was preparing breakfast, Hermione preferred silence. She said it was easier to concentrate on her work that way, but he didn't particularly mind. While Harry loved the Weasleys and the loud, loving feel to the Burrow, he wasn't sure he could always live like that. There were times when he loved being surrounded by family and friends and all the noise that came with it, but Harry usually preferred peace and quiet.

Not that he saw Hermione enough to find anything particularly bothersome. They would have breakfast together every morning and dinner together every evening. Sundays they would apparate together to the Burrow for breakfast, and Wednesday nights they would meet with Ron for lunch. Other than that, however, Harry saw her no more than he had before. For the most part, Hermione stayed at her office in the Ministry or in her room with her work. She did, after all, have her own life and he had his.

That all changed on the third Friday after Hermione moved in.

The first thing he noticed when he came into the lounge was the soft jazz melody lingering in the air. The second thing was that Hermione was curled on the sofa with _Hogwarts: A History_ on her lap. The third, and most important, thing was that she was crying. Not the loud, bawling sort of cry, but rather the soft, quiet sort. It was the sort that if Harry hadn't been paying careful attention, he wouldn't have noticed. The moment he took the slightest of steps closer, she quickly wiped her eyes dry before looking up.

"Harry! I didn't expect you back so early." She gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I thought you said you had a meeting today?"

"We finished early." He answered, before dropping his bag and moving closer. "Hermione, what happened?"

"What do you mean? Nothing's happened."

"You were crying."

She tensed up slightly, but the forced smile stayed glued to her lips. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Harry snorted. "You're a bloody awful liar, 'Mione. Merlin only knows how you got a job working for the Ministry." He teased. Hermione was actually quite a persuasive liar sometimes. This, however, was not one of those times.

"Oh, stop it." She chuckled, lightly hitting with her book.

"Careful, those books of yours are bloody huge!"

She laughed and scooted to the side, leaving room on the sofa for him. He grinned and plopped down beside her. His arm went around her shoulder and she leaned against him almost instinctively. She didn't look up at him, however, and was quiet for a moment. He tried to remain patient as her fingers traced the letters on the spine of her book. Finally she sighed softly.

"Ron has a date tonight." She finally admitted.

And just like that, Harry felt like the world's biggest prat. Ron had told him about the date, of course – some pretty little witch who was a regular at the joke shop. He'd finally built up the courage to ask her out for dinner and she'd agreed. But Harry had never stopped to consider how it would make Hermione feel; he still wasn't even convinced her and Ron were truly over.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled.

She immediately tensed and pulled away from him. "Don't."

"Hermione..."

"Don't, Harry. I don't want Ron back."

"I'm not entirely sure I believe you."

She huffed and stood up. "Well, I don't."

"Hermione, you were _crying_ because he's out on _one _date. You can't honestly tell me you don't still love him."

"Of course I still love him!" She snapped. "We were together for _two years_, I've loved him since we were _children_, but that does not mean I want him back."

"So you're taking a break. It's Ron, he'll come to his senses soon enough."

"For the love of Merlin, Harry, it's not a break! We're over. Ronald doesn't need to come to his senses. It wasn't even his decision to end it – _I_ broke up with _him_!"

Harry froze. "What?"

Neither of his best friends had ever told him much about the break up, just that it had happened and that they had agreed to it. Harry hadn't believed them, of course, but he had always imagined that Ron had been the one who had done it. Hermione had always been the one that held them together, the logical one. Even Harry had to admit that Ron was usually the one who caused their problems; he was the emotional one. It made sense that he would run off and do something reckless that would hurt their relationship, or even, in this case, end it. But Harry had always imagined that Hermione would be the one to forgive and forget, because she loved Ron too much for that. She always had.

She took a breath. "I broke up with Ronald."

"But I thought..."

"I know." She smiled sadly.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She sat down beside him again. "We didn't think it mattered, honestly. Not in the end, at least." Hermione explained. "He didn't like it at first – we had quite a spat actually – but he eventually realised that I was right. We love each other, but Ron and I aren't right for one another. We want different things and we couldn't keep ignoring it."

It made sense when Harry thought about it. Ron was ready to settle down and start a family, and probably quite a large one at that. But Hermione wouldn't be ready for any of that – she was far too involved in her work, and honestly far too good at it. Having a family anytime soon would take time and stress that would be unhealthy for both her and the child unless Hermione were to quit her job, which she never would.

"But earlier..."

"I don't want Ron back, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt to know he's out with someone else right now. I still loved him."

Harry was silent for a moment before he stood up. "Get dressed." He told her.

"Excuse me?"

"We're going out."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Harry."

"Sure it is. Now get dressed, I know this brilliant Muggle coffee shop we can go to."

Hermione stared at him for a moment. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Of course I am."

A grin, one that finally reached her eyes, spread across her lips. "Then you better change as well. You can't very well travel around Muggle London in your robes."

Harry laughed.

**...**

"Starbucks?" Hermione laughed when she caught sight of where they were going. "That's your brilliant coffee shop?"

Harry grinned. "Have you ever been?"

"Once or twice, but not much more than that. Mum loves them though."

"Your mum has good tastes."

The bell on the door signalled their entrance. There were a few people in the coffee shop, but, for the most part, it was empty. The sound of a blender mixed with the music coming from the speakers. Mugs and the sort lined a shelf along the wall, and a few paintings were scattered about the place. It was absolutely Muggle and as much as Harry loved the Wizarding World, it was a refreshing change.

"Hey, Harry!" The girl behind the counter grinned when they approached. "I wasn't expecting you to come in tonight."

"Exactly how often do you come here, Harry?" Hermione laughed.

Harry ignored her. "Hey, Wendy. I thought I'd bring Hermione by. She just moved in."

"Oh? Where about?"

"With me."

"My boyfriend and I broke up last month. I let him keep the flat, but I needed somewhere to stay." Hermione added quickly. "Harry and I have been friends since we were children, so he's lending me his spare bedroom until I can find a place of my own." She explained.

Wendy smiled. "Well that's awfully sweet of him."

A few minutes later, when they sat outside with their drinks, Hermione took a sip of her coffee and gave him a sly grin. "She's cute."

Harry blinked. "Who? Wendy?"

"No, the other girl." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, Wendy. She fancies you."

"Really?" He glanced over his shoulder through the glass window.

"Are you blind, Harry?" She laughed. "Yes. You should ask her out."

He paused before he shook his head. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"I like this place. I don't want to risk ruining that." He admitted.

"Harry, it's only a coffee shop." She took another sip of her drink.

"That's not the point." He explained, wrapping his hand around his cup. "There's a reason I chose to live here: no one knows who I am here, 'Mione. I'm not Harry bloody Potter; I'm not _the-boy-who-lived _or some sort of war hero. I'm Harry and only Harry – Merlin, they don't even know my last name. I'm just another person walking in and out of here, another face in the crowd. So many people come here that I don't exactly make any sort of difference. It's... it's sort of nice, you know?"

She nodded. "I think I do."

It was strange, admitting such a thing to Hermione. He had never told anyone that before, because he never thought it was anything worth telling. But still, it felt as if something had been lifted off of him. It felt right sharing something so personal, yet completely insignificant with her.

He smiled at her and took another sip of his coffee.

…

"You'll never believe who I ran into today." Harry said, stirring the pasta sauce.

"Who?" Hermione asked, sticking her head in once she had finished setting the table.

"Here, try this." He held the spoon out.

She took a taste. "Mm, it could use a bit of salt." She said handing him the container. "Who did you run into today?"

He added a pinch. "Anthony Goldstein." He continued to stir, but saw her tense slightly from the corner of his eye. "You remember him, don't you? He was the Ravenclaw prefect our year. He works in the Department of International Magic Cooperation now."

"Is that so?" Hermione turned to the cupboards and pulled out a wine glass. "Fancy a glass?"

"Alright." He nodded as she poured herself one. "It was rather odd, actually. He had the strangest question for me. Here, try it now." He held the spoon out to her again.

"Perfect." She nodded before taking a sip of her wine.

Harry turned off the stove. "Aren't you curious what he asked me?" He took a sip from his own glass, but then continued before she could answer him. "He asked me about us. He wanted to know about our relationship."

Hermione rolled her eyes and took their glasses to the table. "Harry, people have been asking about us and our relationship since first year."

He poured the sauce onto the two plates of pasta. "Actually, no one has personally asked me for quite a few years now. Bonn appétit." He took them to the table and sat down. "I told him you were my best friend, the same as ever."

"Harry, just get to the point." She took a bite of her spaghetti.

"He asked you out to dinner."

"Yes."

"And you said no."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Does it matter?"

"Absolutely."

"Absolutely not."

"You should have said yes."

"Harry."

"Hermione."

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her wine. "He works in the Ministry, Harry. Dating one's co-worker is never a good idea."

He snorted. "I would hardly call him your co-worker, 'Mione. He doesn't even work in the same department as you. How often do the two of you actually interact for Ministry affairs?"

"Well, we don't exactly."

"Then I don't see what the problem is."

"Harry."

"Hermione." This time he rolled his eyes. "He'd be good for you, 'Mione. I think you should at least give it a try. You aren't losing anything if it doesn't work out."

"If I tell you I'll consider it, will you drop the issue?"

"Yes."

"Fine."

"But you have to promise me." He took a sip of his wine.

Hermione laughed. "Goodness, Harry. Are you eleven again now?"

"I'm serious. You're my friend and I want you to be happy. Now promise me."

"Alright, alright – I promise to consider it. I won't make any promises about my final decision, however."

"Of course not." He grinned slyly. "Then you would make things easy and we can't have that, now can we?"

"Harry?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Shut up."

"Yes, Hermione." Harry grinned.

**...**

One of his favourite parts of any work day was his lunch break. Harry loved his job, really he did, and he was bloody good at it too. But some days he hated it, absolutely _loathed_ it. And lately all he seemed to be having were those days.

It had been two and a half years since the war ended and peace was finally starting to settle in. At first, there had been panic and rogue Death Eaters that still needed to be captured. Now, however, most had been caught and, while Harry was glad to have the peace, it meant he finally had to put his hours into other work. More specifically, paperwork.

And Harry hated paperwork. Absolutely loathed it.

"Mr. Potter," his secretary witch stuck her head through the door. "Someone is here to see you."

"Tell them I'm busy and that they'll have to come back another time." The sooner he got this last document done, the sooner he could go on his lunch break.

"But sir, it's Ms. Granger."

Harry's head snapped up. "Hermione?" Although they both worked in the Ministry, they very rarely saw one another. They were both too busy in their own departments to ever wander off into each others'. "Send her in then."

Hermione gave him an embarrassed smile and shut the door behind her. "Sorry. Was I interrupting something?" She sat down in the chair on the other side of the desk from him.

"Nothing I particularly want to be doing." Harry shrugged. "Did you need something?"

"Well, not exactly. I came to tell you I won't be home for dinner."

Harry raised a brow. "Okay..." He waited for her continue. If she left her office to come all the way to his, there had to be more to the story than that.

"I decided to take your advice." She admitted. "I'm going out with Anthony tonight."

A grin spread across his lips. "That's great, 'Mione! I'm sure you'll have a great time."

She smiled and stood up. "Thanks." She turned to leave, but stopped before she opened the door. "And thank you, Harry. You were right."

He nodded. "That's why friends are for."

Hermione gave him another smile but left the room without another word. Harry stared at the door for a moment and a frown tugged at his lips. As happy as he was for her, the idea of having dinner alone was surprisingly bothersome. Finally, he sighed and shook his head before he dug out a blank piece of parchment. Perhaps Ron would be willing to meet for dinner tonight.

* * *

**She keeps me begging for more**

* * *

**Note:** Let me start by explaining that I'm normally a DHr shipper. HHr was my original ship, but I had given up on it long before I started writing HP fics. After the seventh movie, however, I decided to give HHr a shot. It's surprisingly easy to write and I have to admit, I've actually grown pretty fond of it. I started this fic days after I went to the midnight premier, long before I wrote _Shooting Star_, so I consider this to be my first HHr fic.

I originally planned to have this as a one-shot, but I think 10,000+ words is a bit excessive so I decided to split it. This fic should be about three chapters. I already have the second chapter finished and the third should be done within the next few days. The last chapter only has three scenes, but they are the most crucial scenes, so hopefully the chapters will be evenly split. I'll try to have the next chapter up in a week or a week and a half. Does that sound fair?

**Also, **Starbucks opened up in the UK in 1998. This fic takes place roughly during the year 2000, so I imagine there would be a Starbucks in London.

This fic is dedicated to **fadsforwhatever**, a fellow fandom girl who I found out lives only two floor below me.

Review, please.


	2. Two

**Title:** All the Same  
**Summary: **_She laughed in a way that made him both want to smile and rip his heart out simultaneously. "If only it could be you. If I loved you, imagine how much easier my life would be."_  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. The song in all chapters is _Never Leave_ by Seether.**  
****Word count: **3862

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**Things never feel the way that's right inside**

* * *

Hermione and Anthony's relationship took off with less than surprising ease. When they had been in school, Anthony had been one of Ravenclaw's prides. In fact, had it not been for the war, he would have finished second in the school, only behind Hermione.

And from what she had told Harry, Anthony quite lived up to this reputation. Not only was he well read, he also agreed with Hermione's views on almost every issue. He was very well informed on world issues and loved to travel, mostly to Spain, which also happened to be his nation of concentration. In fact, he was teaching Hermione a bit of Spanish. And the more she saw him, the more Harry truly began to believe her relationship with Ron was really over.

"It won't last long."

Ron, however, didn't seem to agree.

"I don't know, mate. She really seems to like him."

"Of course she does – he's her perfect match. That's why it can't last."

"What?"

"Listen, Harry. I know I didn't always understand Hermione or what she wanted, but if there was one thing I learned about her, it's that she needs a challenge. She can't have things easy, it just isn't her. She needs someone different from her. Why do you suppose we lasted as long as we did?"

It was on the tip of Harry tongue to say that _that_ was the very reason they had ended, but he swallowed it. Instead he shook his head. "I don't buy that. I think she needs someone who understands her, someone she doesn't have to try with. I think she and Anthony might last."

Ron gave him an odd look, but shook his own head. "You'll see, mate. I guarantee it."

Harry didn't believe him.

**...**

One Wednesday, rather than go out, they decided to dine in. Harry and Hermione had barely finished cooking when Ron apparated in. Harry took one look at him and thanked Merlin they had opted against going out. Tonight, he could already tell, was not going to end well.

Ron's face was red and his glare locked on Hermione. "Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?"

Harry's starred at him and his brows furred. He turned his head towards Hermione, but she appeared equally confused. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about, Ronald?"

"You were out with Draco Malfoy last night!"

Harry's eyes widened. "I thought you had a Ministry dinner last night?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, no longer appearing seeming confused. "I did. The Malfoy family donated quite a large sum of money so he, along with other donors, were there last night. Even Anthony was there." She shrugged. "I didn't think it was anything worth mentioning. Wait," her brows furred. "How did you even know about it?"

Ron held up a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. The third page in held a picture of Hermione and Malfoy shaking hands, the caption below mentioning the movement towards peace. "I don't like it, 'Mione. He has to be up to something."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come off it now, Ronald. It's been two years since the war ended. Times have changed."

"But it's _Malfoy_." He spat. "I don't think you should see him anymore."

"For Merlin's sake! You act as if I'm meeting him by choice. He just so happened to be a donor to the Ministry. I welcomed him, shook his hand, thanked him, and then moved on. There was nothing more to it than that."

"I don't trust him."

"Ron, that's enough." Harry finally interrupted. "You're overreacting."

"Harry, it's – "

"Malfoy, I'm aware. I don't like it anymore than you do, but Hermione says it's nothing and I trust her. And you should too."

Ron and Hermione both stared at him, startled. He wanted to be offended that they would be so surprised that he would defend Hermione, but he knew they had a point. More often than he cared to admit, he sided with Ron over her, especially when it came to people like Malfoy. What he said was true, however, and he trusted Hermione. So if she said it was nothing, he would trust her. She was his best friend; she deserved at least that much from him.

**...**

"Hey, Harry." Hermione took a sip of her Starbucks.

"Hm?" He didn't look up, but rather moved the rook on the chess board forward. He had grown so accustomed to playing Wizarding Chess that Muggle chess felt odd. He constantly had to bite back the urge to command his pieces to move. "Check."

She moved a knight in front of her king, defending it. "Can I ask you a question?"

He looked up at her, his interest suddenly peaked. Hermione had never stopped to ask if she could ask him a question, she had just always asked. "Of course."

"Why haven't you been dating?"

"What?"

Hermione sighed and moved her queen three spaces forward. "It's been almost four years since you broke up with Ginny. At the time we had the war and I understood, but there's peace now, Harry. Yet you still aren't seeing anyone. Why?"

"I haven't found anyone." He shrugged.

"You haven't been searching."

"I don't think I should have to." He took a sip of his coffee. "If there's someone out there for me, it'll happen when the time is right. I don't know when I'll find her or if I already have. She could be some run of the mill Muggle or someone at the Ministry. Or maybe I already know her, but I just haven't realised that she's the one. Regardless, there is no point in me settling for someone who doesn't suit my fancy. What if I beginning seeing someone and then one day I wake up and realise that I'm in love with someone else? That isn't fair, isn't right for anyone. I'll find the right person when the time is right. I don't know when it will happen, but I like to think that one day it will." He moved his bishop two spaces backwards. "Checkmate."

Hermione stared at him, a distant but thoughtful look in her eyes, as if she wasn't looking at him, but rather through him. It was slightly unnerving. He coughed after a few moments, bringing her attention back. She shook her head, looked down at the board, and smiled. "Oh, well, I suppose you're right." He wasn't sure whether she meant the reason he gave her or the game. He didn't have the chance to ask, because she stood up. "I just remembered that there is something I need to do. Would you mind packing this up, Harry?"

He stared back at her for a moment before he nodded. "Sure, of course. I'll see you back at the flat later then?"

She grinned. "Thank you." She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you later tonight." She said before turning and running off.

Harry touched his cheek and watched her take off. When she was finally out of his sight, he sighed, shook his head, and picked up the game. He would never understand Hermione.

**...**

That night, sleep refused to come to Harry. He laid in bed for hours staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning, counting snitches. He tried every method he could possibly think of, but sleep was a stubborn opponent and refused to bow. Finally, he sighed and tossed the covers off of himself. Perhaps a warm cup of tea would help.

While he was surprised to see the lights in the lounge on, he was even more surprised to find Hermione there. Dressed in her pyjamas, she was curled on the sofa with a blanket, and a soft jazz melody danced through the air. Harry hadn't realised she had come home, much less gotten so comfortable. When she hadn't come back by the time he retired for the night, he had assumed she was spending the night at Anthony's. Hermione was hardly one to sneak around late at night.

"Fancy a cup of tea?"

She all but jumped up. "Merlin, Harry, you gave me a fright!"

He frowned. "Sorry, didn't mean to."

She shook her head. "No, I suppose it was my fault. I was lost in thought." She put a book on the coffee table. "A cup of tea sounds wonderful, thank you."

Harry eyed her copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ for a moment, before nodding and turning to the kitchen. Something was wrong. He knew Hermione loved that book, so much so that she had it memorized from cover to cover. There was absolutely no reason for her to read it; there was nothing new she could gain from it. The only thing the book did was comfort her. And by now Harry knew her well enough to know that she only ever pulled the book out when something was truly upsetting her.

He returned to the lounge and handed her a cup of tea: light with a touch of honey, how she always took it. She gave him a forced smile and he nodded before sitting beside her. An awkward silence drifted over them, but Harry held his tongue. She would tell him when she was ready, he knew that, so he didn't pressure her. And sure enough, a few minutes later, she sighed and put her cup down.

"I broke up with Anthony today."

Harry's eyes widened. Of all the things she could have told him _that_ was the last one he had expected. "What happened?"

Her fingers toyed with the blanket on her lap. "After what you told me earlier, I realised that I couldn't be with him anymore."

His brows furred, confused. "I don't follow."

She smiled. "What you said at the coffee shop about being with a person and then falling in love with someone else. It made me think that I'm not being fair to Anthony. Not that I'm in love with anyone else." She answered before he could ask. "Not yet, at least. But I don't love Anthony either and I don't think I ever will. He's wonderful, sweet and brilliant, but there's just something..."

"Something missing?" Harry asked, putting his empty teacup down.

"Yes. There isn't something there that should be and it isn't fair for me to lead him on. I tried to explain that to him, but I'm not entirely sure he understood." She admitted, pulling her copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ back onto her lap.

Harry remained silent for a moment, watching her fingers trace the letters on the cover. Whether Anthony believed it or not, Harry knew this break up was hurting her too. She may not have loved him, but she certainly had cared for him, even Harry could see that. So, without thinking about it, his hand brushed against hers. She curled her fingers with his and leaned her head against his shoulder. Harry wrapped his other arm around her shoulder, half hugging her to him.

"You did the right thing." He promised.

She was silent for a moment. "Thank you, Harry."

He smiled softly, although he knew she couldn't see it. "That's what I'm here for, 'Mione."

Harry wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but he didn't care.

**...**

Every year, the Ministry held a gala as a fundraiser. All employees of the Ministry, from the Minister of Magic to the secretaries no one really knew, attended to meet and mingle with the guests who paid to attend. It was nowhere near Harry's favourite part of being and Auror, but it was something he had to do. So every year he sucked it up and attended.

The fortunate part was that the tickets to the gala were few and thus rather expensive. It was typically the same people who attended from year to year, which mean the rush of meeting the famous Harry Potter had already faded. His first year had been only a few months after the war had ended and so he never even had a moment to catch his breath. Last year, however, had been significantly easier, because the excitement of the war had faded. So, this year, Harry had high hopes.

"Hermione, are you ready?" He called from his room as he tied his shoes.

"Just a moment more." She answered from her own room.

The gala was a private event, limited strictly to employees of the Ministry and those who bought tickets; not even dates were allowed to attend without a ticket. Employees, however, often accompanied one another as dates. Until recently, Hermione's plan had been to attend the gala with Anthony. That, however, no longer proved to be the case.

Goldstein had not taken the break up well. While he didn't attack Hermione personally, he made his feelings clear. For the past two weeks he had been cold toward her, ignoring her when he could and responding with short, harsh answers when he was forced to speak to her. Harry could tell it was hurting Hermione, whom, he assumed, still wished to remain friends. But Goldstein was too stubborn, too hurt, to do such. It made Harry wonder if his feelings had developed further than anyone had thought.

So in an attempt to cheer Hermione up, Harry had offered to be her date. He knew that people would hold their tongues about the break up if Harry was with her. And this way, he would be able to distract her from Goldstein's presence. Besides, this way, they could keep each other sane. Hell, they might even be able to enjoy the gala.

"I'm ready." Hermione told him, standing in the doorway of his room.

Harry's eyes widened when he saw her. Her robes were deep red in colour; they were long, with the hems brushing against the floor, and tight enough to show her curves, but not so tight that they seemed uncomfortable. Her make-up was light, but flattering, and her hair, tamed down to soft curls, was pinned up in a loose, but elegant bun. She was beautiful.

Shaking himself from his awe, Harry grinned at her before putting an arm to his waist and bowing down to her. "My lady." He said, holding his other hand out to her.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled regardless. "Good sir." She answered, taking his hand.

They shared a playful laugh as he led her to the lounge, carrying her hand as if they were from earlier times. Once there she moved her hand from his and locked her arm in his instead. Harry counted to three, before he apparated them to the gala.

**...**

The first half of the evening passed as Harry had expected it to. They had arrived at the gala, shortly after eight o'clock, which allowed them to blend in with everyone else who was still arriving. They spent the majority of their time mingling with the other employees they rarely saw or the guests who attended. It was always small talk, ranging from their work to their friends to the latest Quidditch match. No one dared to mention Anthony Goldstein or the break up. Hermione remained at his side the entire evening, a smile on her lips and her arm locked in his.

"I'm beginning to get thirsty. Fancy a drink?" Harry asked.

"Absolutely." She answered.

"Wait here." He gestured towards the seats set aside. "I'll get them."

Hermione nodded and took her arm out from his, which, honestly, felt rather strange. Over the past few hours, he had grown accustomed to being so close to her, to her touch always lingering beside him. It almost felt... _empty_ with her gone. Harry shook his head, banishing the ridiculous thoughts from his mind, before he turned to fetch their drinks.

When he returned a few minutes later, two glasses of champagne in hand, he found her gaze focused elsewhere and a slight frown on her lips. Harry's brows furred slightly and he turned to match her gaze. Across the room, but still in plain sight, Anthony Goldstein stood chatting with Draco Malfoy. But what caught Harry's attention was the pretty raven-haired witch on Goldstein's arm who was mimicking her date and talking with Malfoy's date. A frown tugged at his lips and he put the glasses on the table.

"Come on." He said, bringing Hermione's attention back to him. He held his hand out to her. "Let's dance."

She stared at him for a moment before a small grin spread across her lips and she nodded before taking his hand. It was only once they reached the designated dance floor that Harry remembered he was never particularly good at dancing.

As if she were reading his mind, Hermione laughed. "Don't worry," she said as the song changed to another, softer melody. She wrapped her hands around his neck and his arms automatically hugged her waist. "Just relax."

Harry nodded. He suddenly felt all the more comfortable with the return of Hermione's touch. They danced in a small circle, following the slow rhythm. "Ignore them, 'Mione."

She tensed slightly in his arms. "Am I that obvious?" She didn't wait for his answer. "He's trying to make me jealous."

"Is it working?"

She didn't answer him at first. "Would it be awful of me to say it was?"

The sudden urge to say yes appeared, but Harry quickly banished back. He wasn't even sure where it had come from. "Absolutely not." He answered. Just because Hermione hadn't loved Goldstein didn't mean she hadn't cared for him and held their time together precious. "Although you have no reason to be jealous of her."

"She's beautiful."

"Not compared to you."

He could practically hear her roll her eyes. "Harry..."

"I mean it, 'Mione. You look beautiful tonight. She's cannot even compare."

He wasn't sure whether or not she actually believed him, but he felt her relax and she rested her head against his shoulder. "Thank you," she mumbled.

Harry smiled and held her a little closer.

**...**

The following week, they had dinner at the Burrow. Charlie had come home for a visit and Molly had taken it as an occasion to prepare a large feast. They made an evening of it. The boys and Ginny even had a small Quidditch match in the backyard, while Hermione and Fleur helped Molly with the dinner. After dinner, they settled in the living room, laughing at old stories and catching up with one another. Now that they were all grown and had their own busy lives, it wasn't often so many of them could get together.

At some point, long after it had grown dark, Harry excused himself and slipped outside. The air was fresh, but crisp and he took a deep breath. He loved his flat and he loved living in Muggle London, but sometimes he missed the serenity that came with the Burrow. Yes, inside it was usually rather noisy, but outside was often another matter. It was so isolated, so far from the city, that he could easily find a peace that London couldn't give him. It was a refreshing change.

"Mind if I join you?"

Harry smiled and scooted to the side on his bench. "Of course."

Ginny smiled back and took a seat beside him. She tilted her head up and gazed at the stars; they were incredibly bright tonight. Harry turned his head back to the sky. He and Ginny sat there, content with the silence. It was at least ten minutes later when she spoke.

"How are you?" She asked. "I feel as if I haven't seen you in quite some time. Well, besides today."

"I'm here every Sunday for breakfast, Ginny." He reminded her.

"But not for very long, and even then, you hardly stay two hours." She explained. "Especially since you occasionally used to stop by for dinner, too. It has been ages since you've done that."

"I know, but I've actually taken to making dinner every night now. Hermione prepares breakfast and I am in charge of dinner. It's a sort of agreement we came to."

"I see." She mumbled. "You know, I am a little surprised she is still with you. She had been so determined to get her own flat after that break up."

"I don't mind." Harry shrugged. "And to be perfectly honest, I think I prefer it this way."

Ginny was silent for a moment, but Harry felt her gaze shift to him. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

He turned to her with wide eyes. "What? No! Have you gone mad, Ginny? Of course not!"

A soft smirk tugged at her lips. "I've seen countless people ask you that and you always give the same exasperated answer. But you know, Harry Potter, I don't think I have ever seen you so defensive about it before."

A frown tugged at his lips. "I wasn't defensive. I just wasn't expecting you to say such a thing." And even though what he said was true, it didn't sound believable, even to him. Why had he been so defensive?

She turned her gaze back to the sky. "I used to be jealous of her, you know." She admitted. "I'm not anymore, of course, but back when we were in school, I was. The two of you were always so close that I couldn't help it. She has always been there for you."

"Because she's my best friend."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps there's more to it than that." Ginny mused. "Before there was always someone in the way – Cho, Ron, even me – but that's not the case anymore. It was only a matter of time, really, and now it's just the two of you. You're finally in a situation where you can realise that. You can finally let her in."

Harry knew he should stop her, because she was wrong. Hermione was his friend and that was it. There was nothing more between them. But, for some reason he couldn't explain, he was curious. "What do you mean by 'finally let her in'?"

"Ever since the war, you've been scared to let anyone get closer to you. You can deny it all you want, Harry, but it's the truth. I don't know if it's because you're scared of losing them or what, but you haven't been the same since. Perhaps that's why we never worked out – you wouldn't let me in and I didn't work hard enough. But Hermione never gave up on you. It's not in her nature to let something go so easily. She has always been there for you, and now look at the two of you; I don't think she and Ron were ever this close. I really think it's your time." She stood up and brushed herself off. "You need to stop living it fear – it doesn't suit the great Harry Potter." She gave him an encouraging smile.

And then Ginny left before he could say anything more. Which, for once, he was glad about, because his head was so clouded, so confused, that he had no idea what to think, much less say.

* * *

**But I am afraid of trying**

* * *

**Note**: This fic is way longer than I had originally planned, but I'm still paranoid that I'm moving too fast. I'm sorry if this seems rushed. I actually did take my time with this chapter. I've been trying to strengthen Harry and Hermione's friendship, so I can move it to another level in the next chapter. I already have the next chapter written. It's a little over 4000 words. I still need to edit it and do some touch ups, but I'll try to have it up before I go back to school on the tenth. My classes start on the twelfth, so it definitely should be up by then.

Also, I'm sorry if the chapters seem like they're cutting kind of weird. I planned and wrote this with the intention of it being a one-shot. I actually wrote and kept it on my computer like one giant one-shot. But since it's over 12,000 words, I split it into three chapters.

This fic is dedicated to **fadsforwhatever**, a fellow fandom girl who I found out lives only two floor below me.

Happy New Year! Review, please.


	3. Three

**Title:** All the Same  
**Summary: **_She laughed in a way that made him both want to smile and rip his heart out simultaneously. "If only it could be you. If I loved you, imagine how much easier my life would be."_  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. The song in all chapters is _Never Leave_ by Seether.**  
****Word count: **4470

* * *

**You're the one who keeps me all excited**  
**You keep me begging for more**

* * *

Friday evening, while Harry was preparing dinner, Hermione returned home with three or four DVDs and a grin on her face. Apparently a few days prior, her mum had phoned and told Hermione quite a bit about a few new Muggle films, which had then prompted her visit a video store in Muggle London. It had been quite a few years since either of them had seen a Muggle film (the telly and the DVD player in their living room served as more of a decoration than an entertainment system) so she had thought it would be a good way for the two of them to spend that Friday.

Ever since that first Friday when Harry had taken her to his Starbucks, it had become some sort of tradition to spend every Friday evening together. It wasn't something either of them had actually said or really planned; it was almost instinctual. Some nights they would wander through Muggle London, some nights they would visit Diagon Alley, once they had gone out for dinner. But it didn't really matter what they did. Wednesday was their night with Ron, for the three of them. Saturdays had been the nights she would go out with Goldstein, but Fridays were just for the two of them. And, despite how foolish it was, it was what Harry looked forward to most in his week.

After dinner, Hermione settled into her usual spot on the sofa with Crookshanks curled up in her lap. She had already changed into her pyjamas and tied her ever-bushy hair into a tight plait. She held a teacup in between her palms, careful to not spill any of it on her pet. She grinned at him and Harry couldn't help but grin back. She had been upset, stressed the past week (whether because of her work or the break up, Harry wasn't completely sure) and he was glad to finally see her happy. He turned on their DVD player and started _What Women Want_ before settling next to her.

Half way through their second movie, Crookshanks had wandered off, presumably to his bed, and Hermione had shifted her position to be more comfortable. She rested her head against his chest, her body stretched across the other two-thirds of the sofa.

"Hermione," Harry said after the second film finished. "Why don't you go to bed?"

"I'm awake." She mumbled. He playfully rolled his eyes, but said nothing else and, with a swish of his wand, changed the DVD.

Hermione was always the serious, mature one, so seeing her so childish was different. It almost amused him in some ways. Not that he could blame her. For the past few weeks, ever since the gala, she had thrown herself into her work. She worked late into the night and woke up far too early. She ate breakfast and dinner, but Harry would bet his wand that she worked through her lunch break. There was either something upsetting her or something she was trying to avoid. She hadn't told him anything, per say, and she did her best to act normal, but Harry could tell. He knew her well enough now.

So when she had come home earlier that evening, with that grin on her face, it felt as if his world had suddenly grown brighter. He had been worried about her, but didn't want to push her; he had been sure she would come to him when she was ready. But it looked as if the whole thing had blown away and she was back to herself. He couldn't remember ever being so relieved.

"_You're in love with her, aren't you?" _

At the time, Harry had been shocked that Ginny would suggest such a thing. He had heard it so many times, that he had learned to shut the thought away. It was an instinct to respond without giving the nature of their relationship a second thought. She had always been his best friend and only his best friend; why should now be any different? Only the more Harry thought about it, the more it made sense. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but something had changed and, no matter how much he tried to deny it, Hermione wasn't only his best friend anymore. There was something else there now, something more. It ran deeper than anything he had ever felt before.

"I love you." The words so felt right as they slipped out that he didn't give it a second thought.

"I love you too, Harry." She mumbled back.

His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat. He hadn't realised she was still awake. "You do?"

"Of course." Her words slurred slightly; she was practically asleep. "You're my best friend."

A small smile tugged at his lips. "Right. Of course."

He should have known better; of course it wouldn't be that simple. He was disappointed, but he wasn't entirely surprised. It had taken him this long to admit it to himself and he hadn't just come off of two rather serious relationships. She would need time to realise what he had; he couldn't expect her to know already. It was finally their time and she would see it soon enough. But Harry could wait, because, in the end, it would be worth it.

A soft melody drifted from the telly and the final credits began to scroll across the screen. Hermione, however, had finally slipped to sleep and remained motionless. Harry's smile grew and, careful not to wake her, he stood and lifted her up. He cradled her in his arms and carried her to her room. She didn't stir as he put her down onto the bed and pulled the covers over her.

He brushed a stray piece of her hair out of her face. "I'm falling in love with you, 'Mione." He mumbled, brushing his lips against her forehead.

And when Harry left the room, he swore he saw her smile.

**...**

Ron stared at him as if Harry had just told him he was secretly a Death Eater. "Blimey, mate. Are you sure?"

Harry nodded slowly, careful not set his friend off on some sort of rampage. "Yeah, I am." He admitted.

"But all those years you said..."

"I know. I don't know what happened, but something did." Honestly, he wasn't sure if his feelings had changed or if he had finally come to terms with them; if it was him that had changed or if the time was finally just right. But he knew better than to tell Ron that. As it was, he was already afraid that his friend would bite his head off.

Ron shook his head. "Bloody hell, Harry."

Harry smiled apologetically. "I know."

Ron was silent for a moment. "Have you told her yet?"

"Not exactly." He didn't exactly count the other night. "I was going to wait awhile. It hasn't been that long since she broke up with Goldstein. I don't want to make her feel rushed. I want to give her some time. It's all a bit overwhelming, don't you think?"

"Just... be careful when you do. Hermione's, well, she's a complicated witch."

Harry frowned. He didn't think so. "What do you mean?" The question came out far more defensive than he had meant.

"Hermione and I are over, mate. I know that, don't worry. I'm not going to do something to mess your chance up. I've moved on." Ron promised. "But remember what I said about her and Goldstein? Hermione needs a challenge. She never goes for the easy stuff, even if it's good for her. She always has to go and surprise everyone with something overly complicated. And the two of you, well, you're not exactly the most unexpected thing."

"No," Harry shook his head. "I think this time she'll want something simple, something easy. You haven't seen how she is when she comes home lately. She looks for challenges, works so hard everywhere, that she needs something else when she comes home. She needs to be with someone that she can relax with, someone who can make things easy for her. You're wrong."

Ron fell silent again. Finally he sighed and shook his head. "Alright, mate. Whatever you say." He smiled, but it didn't completely reach his eyes. "But you have my blessings or whatever."

Harry believed him, really, he did. But when he left, he couldn't shake the horrible feeling off.

**...**

A week and a half later Harry received a notice to lead a group of Aurors on a mission. The Ministry had lead on a rogue Death Eater and it was exactly what Harry had been waiting for. Notices like these were the reason Harry had become an Auror in the first place. He hated the paperwork, the technical issues, that came with his job. But when he was on the field, when he was leading a mission, it was worth it.

But the only problem was Hermione.

It wasn't that she would try to stop him; it would be the quite the opposite, actually. She would be excited for him, want him to go, but he was still worried about her. Most days she was fine, cheerful as ever. Some days, however, something was off. She would still smile, still laugh, still act like her usual Hermione self. But, somehow, Harry could tell. They were the little signs – her eyes wouldn't light the same, her laughter would be a beat off, her head would tilt in the wrong direction – but he could always tell. And Merlin, did it have him worried.

"They've asked me to lead a mission. I leave in the morning." He told her over dinner that night.

"Harry, that's wonderful! It's been ages since they've called you on a mission. You must be thrilled." She grinned.

He studied her smile for the slightest of moments. It reached her eyes; she was telling the truth. He smiled back. "Yeah, I am." She had been normal for the past few days. But still, he had to make sure. "Hey, Hermione."

"Yes, Harry?"

"Are you alright?" He asked. "I don't mean just right now. Like, all together."

She paused for a moment, a sad smile tugged at her lips. "Am I that obvious?"

"Not really." He admitted. "I suppose I know you too well by now."

"I...I've just had a lot on my mind." She explained. "I'm trying to sort out a few thoughts and it's been a bit more complicated than I had initially anticipated."

"Is there anything that I can do to help?" If she needed him...

"No." She tilted her head down so that he couldn't see her eyes. "I wish I could tell you about it, but I'm afraid it's something I need to figure out myself."

"I see."

"But Harry," her hand covered his and she smiled at him in a way that made his heart tighten slightly. "I promise that I will tell you as soon as I can."

He smiled back. "Thank you."

The next morning, before Hermione woke, Harry left for his Auror mission.

**...**

The following week proved to be one of the longest in Harry's life. It was nearly eight days later by the time he was able to return home. He slipped back into the flat a few minutes before midnight, only to find Hermione wide awake and curled up on the sofa. _Hogwarts: A History_ laid open on her lap and he could hear her soft sobs, even above the soft jazz melody. Harry instinctively dropped his bag and rushed to her side.

"Shh..." He mumbled, sitting beside her.

"Goodness, Harry!" She jumped slightly. "When did you get back?" She wiped her cheeks. "You must be starving. I can make you something." She attempted to stand.

"I'm fine," he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her in place. "What happened?" He searched his mind for a possible problem when she remained silent. "Wait, is this related to those thoughts you were trying to sort out?" She didn't respond. "Hermione..." She nodded slowly. "Maybe I can help." He offered.

She was silent for a moment and just when he thought she wouldn't answer him, she took a deep breath. "What...what would you do, Harry, if you've built a relationship that you are comfortable with, but it has the... _potential_ to move further? To move to something more. But you know that if you pursue it, it will change everything; it can ruin the entire nature your relationship, destroy everything. But if you don't do anything, you'll lose it. What would you do?"

"Are you happy?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Are you happy with the original relationship? You said you were comfortable, but are you happy with it? Just sitting there and not watching it go forward for the rest of your time. Will that keep you happy?"

A sad smile tugged at her lips. "No, I suppose not."

Harry took a deep breath and tried to settle his raging heart. It was finally time. "Hermione, I..."

"Draco told me that he wants to be with me."

_Wait, what? _ His eyes widened. "Draco? Dra – Malfoy?" He stared at her, while his brain tried to catch up with what she was telling him. "You were talking about _Malfoy_?" She couldn't be serious. That made absolutely no sense. Where had that even come from?

She gave him a gentle smile, as if suddenly she were the one attempting to comfort him. "The Malfoys have been working a lot more with the Ministry lately, so we kept bumping into one another. But I swear, Harry, that one night Ron came barging in, upset about the article in the paper, I didn't lie to you. Nothing had happened at the time. I didn't feel anything then. It took quite some time after that first meeting. Occasionally we would have a lunch or dinner meeting and slowly, but surely, we began to talk. Really talk, you know. He's actually quite brilliant, more so than we ever gave him credit for. We've had lunch on our own a few times since then as well. Though always as friends." She explained. "I didn't tell you anything, because, for the longest time, I wasn't sure if it _was_ anything. I didn't want to make a big fuss over nothing." She added.

There were a million thoughts running through Harry's head at once. He still had so many more questions to ask; there were so many things that did not make sense. He still did not understand why _Malfoy_ of all people. Why him? What could possibly be so special about _Malfoy _of all people? What made him so different from Harry? But only one thought reached his lips, a question he wasn't sure he truly wanted the answer for, but so desperately needed to know. "Do you love him?"

"I... I think so."

When she spoke, however, her eyes softened and a small smile tugged at her lips. He heard the slight hitch in her breath and Harry was willing to bet anything that her heart was pounding. Even though she wouldn't admit it to him, he could tell. There was no doubt in his mind: Hermione was in love with Malfoy.

He felt as if he would be sick.

The Gryffindor in him, however, wouldn't allow him to show it. He had to support his friend, had to be there for her the best he could. He had to tell her what she needed to hear, what she deserved to hear, no matter how much it would kill him.

"Then I don't see what the problem is." He said before he had the chance to change his mind. Before she could realize exactly how much it was killing him to say it.

"His parents wouldn't approve." Her voice held a sudden sharpness to it. But whether her anger was directed at his parents or herself, Harry couldn't tell. "I'm not exactly the Pureblood they dreamt for their only son."

"But the war..."

"I know. They aren't Death Eaters, but that doesn't mean that they aren't still Pureblood elitist, Harry. It's miracle enough that Draco's changed. Merlin only knows what it would take for his parents to change as well." She shook her head, as if she were trying to banish the thought from her head.

"Hermione, I'm trying to understand, but..."

"You don't completely follow." He nodded. There was too much happening and he was sure he wasn't hearing the full story.

"_What you said at the coffee shop about being with a person and then falling in love with someone else. It made me think that I'm not being fair to Anthony."_

"You broke up with Goldstein for Malfoy?" The question slipped out of his mouth before he could stop to think about it.

Hermione flinched slightly. "Yes and no." She admitted. "What I told you was the truth: I didn't love Anthony. Something honestly was missing and that was what mattered. But yes, I was beginning to fall for Draco at the time. It wasn't until shortly before the gala that I knew it was the same for him."

_Anthony Goldstein stood chatting with Draco Malfoy. But what caught Harry's attention was the pretty raven-haired witch on Goldstein's arm who was mimicking her date and talking with Malfoy's date. _

"_He's trying to make me jealous."_

It hadn't been the raven-haired witch Hermione had been jealous of. Although Harry hadn't given it a thought before, Malfoy's date had been awfully pretty. The pair of them had been beside Goldstein and his witch when Harry had caught her staring. There was no possible way he could have noticed at the time, but it made perfect sense now: she had been jealous of Malfoy's date, not Goldstein's.

"Draco's parents arranged his betrothal two weeks ago. He's going to marry Astoria Greengrass next Spring. They will announce it tomorrow morning. I have been trying to avoid him by focusing on my work. If I was busy, I couldn't spare time to think about him, so I most certainly couldn't see him." An annoyed smile, much like the ones she used to give Ron when he did something foolish, tugged at her lips. "But he's a rather stubborn prat and I couldn't always do it. I tried to ignore it, but he would sneak in somehow."

_Some days, however, something was off. She would still smile, still laugh, still act like her usual Hermione self. But, somehow, Harry could tell. They were the little signs – her eyes wouldn't light the same, her laughter would be a beat off, her head would tilt in the wrong direction – but he could always tell. _

"_I'm trying to sort out a few thoughts and it's been a bit more complicated than I had initially anticipated."_

"His future relies on this marriage. The Malfoys are counting on this marriage to not only continue their line, but also to clear their name. If he does anything to jeopardize it, his parents will disinherit him." Hermione took a deep breath, but didn't meet his eyes. "Two nights ago, he told me he would break the engagement. For me." The tears slid down her cheeks and patted down the cover of her book. "He would lose everything. I couldn't do that to him. I told him that I didn't want to be with him. I... I lied to him."

Her head fell onto his shoulder. Part of Harry wanted to push her away, to yell at her and call her mad. He wanted to scream, cry, even hex something into oblivion. She was crying to him about how she couldn't do that to _Malfoy_, but here she was breaking _his_ heart. He wanted to hate her. But he couldn't. Perhaps it was because he was too shocked, too overwhelmed, too numb; perhaps it was because she was his best friend, because she couldn't possibly know what she was doing to him, or because he loved her too much. Regardless, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her closer, and tried his best to settle her down.

"_It was only a matter of time, really, and now it's just the two of you. You're finally in a situation where you can realise that. You can finally let her in."_

Harry had been friends with Hermione for years and people had asked him about their relationship ever since the start. But they had never been ready for it. It had taken years and years of waiting for his feelings to develop and for him to realise it. Merlin, it had been over ten years since he first saw her on the train, but nothing had ever happened because the time had never been right. But now it finally was right, he finally knew and they could have _oh-so-easily_ been together.

It wasn't the right time for Malfoy, not even close. His entire world, everything he had been raised to expect, was on the line. There would be nothing easy for them. Merlin, Harry wasn't even sure how long they would last – changed or not, she was still Hermione and he was still _Malfoy_ – but that wasn't stopping him. He didn't seem to care what was at stake or whether the timing was right; he wanted to be with her.

"I wish it was you."

"What?"

Hermione pulled back and wiped her eyes. Fresh ones quickly replaced them, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. An almost bitter smile tugged at her lips. "I wish I could have fallen in love with you, Harry." She laughed in a way that made him both want to smile and rip his heart out simultaneously. "If only it could be you. If I loved you, imagine how much easier my life would be."

Her voice was so wishful that Harry wanted nothing more than to grab her and kiss her. He wanted to tell her that it _could_ be him. Her life really could be that simple, that easy, if she would only open her eyes and realise it. But he knew she couldn't force her feelings and it wasn't quite so easy. No matter how much they both wished it was.

"_Hermione needs a challenge. She never goes for the easy stuff, even if it's good for her. She always has to go and surprise everyone with something overly complicated. And the two of you, well, you're not exactly the most unexpected thing."_

On paper, they were perfect for one another. It had taken him years to see it, but Harry knew it was true. They were compatible: they wanted the similar things, saw eye-to-eye, and they didn't have to work to understand each other. It would make sense for Harry and Hermione to eventually end up together. But Hermione wanted a challenge. Harry had always known that Hermione wasn't one to take the easy way, but he hadn't realised how right Ron had been. She needed someone who would keep her on her toes, someone who would challenge her in every way possible. She needed someone she could argue with, someone who wasn't a thing like her.

"I think you should go for it, 'Mione."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

He took a deep breath. "Malfoy. You... you should be with him."

She shook her head. "I _can't_. He will lose _everything_, Harry."

"He knows what the stakes are. This is _Malfoy_ we're talking about; he's a spoiled prat. He loves his life of luxury."

"Which is why I can't do it. I can't let him lose all of that."

"No, that is exactly why you should do it. Hermione, if he is willing to give up all of it, he obviously means it. He wants you more than any of that." He closed his eyes and prayed that she wouldn't notice how tight his fists were clenched. "You should be with Malfoy."

She stared at him for a moment. "Do you really mean that?"

It took all of his Auror training not to flinch. _No!_ He wanted to cry out. _You should be with me! Why can't you see that? I'm in love with you, 'Mione. _But he did his best to ignore it. He forced a small smile. "Yes." He nodded. "Besides, you were never one for doing things the easy way and Merlin only knows how complicated he must be." A small giggle escaped her lips and, instinctively, a smile tugged at his. It was hard for him to be completely miserable when she was happy. " Now go."

"What?"

He stood up. "You said that they were announcing the engagement in the morning. You need to tell him the truth. You haven't much time left."

She laughed softly. "I can't go like this. I'm an absolute mess, Harry."

He shook his head. "You look beautiful." It wasn't a lie. Although her hair was even more of a mess than normal, her face was stained with tears, and she was in her Muggle pyjamas, she was smiling in a way that made nothing else mattered. "And if he sees you tonight and all he cares about is how you look then he's absolutely not worth it." But that wouldn't be the case. Malfoy would be thrilled to see her. He knew because, for the first time in his life, Harry wished he was him. "Go."

If possible, her grin grew and she nodded. "Alright." She stood, wrapped her hair into a messy bun, and wiped the tears from her eyes. And just when Harry thought she would apparate away, she stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you, Harry. For everything – letting me stay here, helping me through the break-up, supporting me with Anthony, this entire mess. I don't know what I would have done without you." She kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. He rested his face against her head and breathed her in. And, before he could stop it, he felt a tear or two slide down his face and onto her head. He wiped the trail away quickly and let her go. "That's what friends are for, Hermione."

She let go of him and stepped back. She gave him one last loving smile before she nodded and apparated away. And Harry could only watch as Hermione left him for someone else. Because he was, as he always had been, her best friend and that was all he would ever be.

And, in the end, it was all the same.

* * *

**Never tease me and don't leave me here**  
**It's all the same in the end**  
_Never Leave_ by Seether

* * *

**Note: **Before you get mad/upset/want to flame me, keep the summary in mind. I made it clear from the start that this fic would not have a happy ending. The Draco Malfoy thing was not some spur of the moment, random decision; it was my plan from the very start. I wrote this fic because I was like "how have I not written a Harry/Hermione/Draco yet?" The HHr in this fic just kept growing and growing, but it was never my intention for you to really notice who she was in love with, because, well, sometimes people really don't see it coming. There were so many times that I did consider changing that aspect of the story, but that would defeat half of the point. Hermione needed a challenge and the character that fit that the most was Draco. I know I could have gone back to Ron, but I felt as if that would have been counter productive, because Harry helps her to move on from Ron. There was no other character that I could think of that was an accepted fanon pairing and wouldn't be even more extreme. I'm sorry if you don't like it, but it is my fanfiction and this was the story I had intended to write. This is definitely **the end. **But you are more than welcome to leave any questions or confusion you might have in a review and I will respond back.

I have another triangle fic that I'll post in a few days that may help to explain my reasoning for her picking Draco. It's done, but I need to edit/tweek it.

Sorry for the late posting. My laptop screen came off the hinge a day or two after I posted the second chapter. Luckily, I have an AMAZING friend who offered to let me use her spare laptop until I can get one in the summer. I was able to transfer everything, but it just took sometime. Plus, I had to move back to campus and all.

And on a slightly unrelated note: at the end of the month, I will be changing my pen name from **Inu Star Angel** to **MuslimBarbie. **Details will be posted on my profile page.

This fic is dedicated to **fadsforwhatever**, a fellow fandom girl who I found out lives only two floor below me.

Review, please.


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